AN : I’m not really
one for author’s notes, and I do try
to avoid them in general, but I felt I couldn’t post this chapter without
sending out a HUGE apology to those of you who have waited so patiently for me
to continue with this story. I am truly
ashamed for leaving you hanging, and I have no real excuse besides a complete
melt down in my real life. But I’ve been
working away at this chapter when I could and finally here it is.
As far as chapters go, it’s not the most action
packed, and for that I apologise too. But
my muse IS back in full fledge now, and so I hope not to leave such a large gap
between chapters again.
Thank you so much to those who left such encouraging
reviews and sent such kind emails. It
meant a great deal, and it is to all of you that I dedicate this instalment.
******
Quinze’s
voice was high-pitched; the incensed squawk loud enough to draw the curious
gazes of more than one of the patrons in the small but crowded market.
“Sold?
You sold him?”
His
mouth flapped flaccidly, his expression resemblant of a landed fish. All remaining colour drained from his already
pale complexion, before flushing a deep and angry red. Remembering where they were, he lowered his
voice to a strangled snarl before continuing.
“Keep
him alive, I said. Keep him downtrodden
and browbeaten. Keep him broken if the
need required it. But the main intent,
you old fool, was to KEEP HIM!”
The
trader watched him with barely concealed interest. Business had crossed the men’s paths on more
than one occasion, and this was not the first time Quinze had left
‘merchandise’ in his care. But never
before had Jay seen his associate in such a state of panic. What
value had the slave been to him?
The
concentrated ill intent that was now directed in the trader’s direction would
have been enough to reduce other men to quivering masses. Such was Quinze’s reputation. But Jay was only too aware of his own
mortality; he was old and had seen much in his life. The idea of dying did not frighten him. And so it was a steady hand that raised his
mug of ale to his lips.
“I
had little choice, my friend. The buyer
was very… persuasive. They simply would
not be denied. It was not as though much
profit was to be made. The price was
barely enough to cover his keep. You
should be thanking me for relieving you of him.”
His
words did little to mollify his colleague, however, judging by the deepening
hue of purple that rose up his wrinkled throat.
The fist that clutched his mug of ale shook, his composure deserting him
completely in the light of the Trader’s lack of remorse. Jay watched him with heightening
curiosity. Was that... fear?
“Then
you must get him back!”
Spittle
flew from Quinze’s mouth, and the tip of his tongue darted across his parched
lips. ‘Oh this is too good! Too amusing! To see this man in
such distress. To
see him piss his own pants. What
a story this would be to tell.’ Jay
swallowed his own glee, feigning indifference.
“That
would be impossible. Who knows where he
is now. Forget the slave, Quinze. He is lost to you.”
“But
what will I tell him! After the trouble to get him…”
Jay
rose to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane as he drained the last dregs from
his beaker. Tossing the cup back down
carelessly, he graced the other man with a pitying
look. He squeezed Quinze’s shoulder in an
almost fatherly, but most certainly condescending gesture.
“Tell
him the slave is dead. He would never
know otherwise. Cut your losses and be
glad to be rid of him.”
Quinze
flipped the old man’s hand away with a shout of fury.
“It’s
not that easy! You stupid old fool! You
cannot fathom what you have done! May Jupiter curse you!”
The
expression of hatred he directed at Jay as he leapt to his feet was only
slightly diminished by the fleeting moment where he nearly toppled over his own
seat. He rocked back on his heels for a
second, before righting himself and spinning away, pushing his way through the
crowd with an air of malice that sent people scurrying.
Jay
chuckled. Whoever the boy had been, he
had certainly brought some excitement of late.
Straightening his tunic, the trader turned to make his way back to his
stall.
He
was sure that this would be the last he would hear of both Quinze and the
enigmatic Heero.
******
Enveloped
by the silence, the serenity of her chambers, it would be all too easy for
Relena to forget that a whole world existed outside this very room. Even now, as the first rays of dawn crept
their way across the marbled floor, she could fool herself in to believing that
this was some void, some hidden space that allowed time to go by without
her. Without them. A window that could hide
them away; so that no one would ever take him away from her.
Relena
shivered, drawing her light shawl tighter around her shoulders. She had been awake for hours now, watching
his profile in sleep, and basking in these feelings of contentment, elation
and… an uncertain passion for him that she could not explain.
But
not regret. Never regret.
Leaning
back against the soft cushions of her chair, she gazed across at his slumbering
form. What a picture he made; her
fingers itched to trace the smooth planes of his exposed back, to follow the
curve of his spine down past the linen that slung low over his hips.
He
slept like one that had not seen sleep in an age. She had not seen him stir even once in the
hours that she had sat here, and his face bore the smooth expression that only
a dreamless sleep could afford. Rising
soundlessly, Relena crept back to the side of the bed; she wanted to curl up
against the solid comfort of his body or simply brush away the heavy bangs from
his brow, but was afraid to wake him.
Her
body ached with a strange stiffness she had not expected. Her skin left marked, no longer her own,
completely his. Relena knew that she
could never allow another to touch her… the way he had touched her. She
wondered… did he know this, understand this?
Closing her eyes, she remembered the intensity in his gaze, the
possessiveness in his caress. The way he
had claimed her as his alone…
She
shivered with recollection, her heart quickening even now at the memory of the
night before. But it was morning
now. Would the dawn’s rays chase away
the dreamlike fancy of twilight’s resolve? Once awareness returned, would he regret?
Relena
squeezed her eyes shut against the very notion.
‘No. You must not think such things.’ Clenched
fists halted the wayward fingers that wished to stray once again to his smooth
brow. ‘Let him sleep…’
The
tap against the wooden door was so light, had she not been silently observing
her slumbering companion, she would have all but missed it. Tugging the sheet higher, until it covered
him up to his shoulders, Relena padded softly across the room on the balls of
her feet. It was a strangely protective
gesture, but not one that she had consciously made. She was not, after all, of a jealous nature,
nor did she think to hide him from prying eyes.
Either way, Heero slept on, the action lost on him.
The
handmaiden’s face was apologetic as Relena allowed her to slip quietly into the
room, shutting the doors firmly behind her.
“I’m
sorry, My Lady, to disturb you so early…” Hilde cast a curious glance around
the room, coming to rest briefly on the rumpled bed linen, and dropping her
voice to a hushed whisper before continuing, “But I didn’t want to raise
suspicion by bringing your breakfast later than usual…”
Relena
shook her head in reassurance, “Of course not, Hilde. You were right in doing so…”
“The
House Keeper has been demanding to know where he is. The Captain told her that he was on loan to
the Winner Estate, but that you would let her know today how long he would be
gone. What should I tell her?”
Relena
frowned. She had not thought of
that. Heero’s absence would naturally
not go unnoticed. She would have to thank
Trowa for his resourcefulness when she next saw him. Glancing wistfully across at Heero, hoping he
had not been disturbed by their whispering, Relena considered what she should
do. Of course she wanted him to stay
here, with her… even if for just a little longer. But what did he want? It was presumptuous of
her to assume that he would even want to stay… And what possible story could
she give the snooping Housekeeper? She had no practise in deception…
“Do
not let it trouble you, My Lady,” Hilde’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts,
“I will speak to her for you. It will
not be too difficult to stall her. You
should make the most of your time together…” She paused a moment, watching her
mistress closely, “Before your brother returns.”
Hilde
laid the breakfast tray on a nearby table, giving Relena’s hand a reassuring
squeeze, before slipping back out the heavy doors, not waiting for a
reply. Relena stared blankly at the
solid wooden surface, suddenly struck with an unexpected pang of
apprehension.
She
could have stood there for any amount of time, silently plotting possible ways
to persuade Heero to stay concealed in her chambers for a little longer, had
his deep baritone not cut her short.
“Do
you normally ‘loan out’ your slaves to other households?”
Physically
starting, Relena turned quickly to the centre of the room, her gaze stopped
abruptly by the steady stare of her sleeping companion. Half sitting, the thin sheet draped
nonchalantly across his lap, he watched her with an easy candour. It was all Relena could do not to openly gaze
at him.
He
looked decidedly sleep ruffled. His
heavy brown bangs feel across his brow with even more than the usual disarray,
and his eyelids were still a little heavy.
But his eyes were alert, suggesting that he had been awake longer than
she had suspected. She blushed. ‘How
much had he heard?’
“Not
normally, no… I guess…” She gave a small, embarrassed smile, “But things seem
to have become less and less normal of late.”
Heero
raised an eyebrow at this, his thoughts unreadable. Relena felt restless beneath his measuring
glare, feeling naked to his eyes despite her modest attire. Seeking distraction, she reached gratefully
for the breakfast tray that Hilde had left her, carrying it across the room to
him.
He
didn’t move as she sat down in front of him, laying the tray down between
them. Drawing her legs up beneath her,
she smiled encouragingly as she gestured at the selection of foodstuffs.
“Hilde has brought a fine selection. I hope you have a healthy appetite…”
Relena’s words dried in her throat, her clumsy attempt at
light-heartedness thwarted as Heero reached across to cup her face in his
hand. His thumb brushed across her
cheek, and he leveled her with a look of quiet reproach.
“You look tired.”
Blushing deeply, Relena ducked her head with
embarrassment. What would he think of
her, if he knew she had passed the night away simply watching him sleep? What
kind of fawning, naive simpleton did that make her? She nudged the platter at
him again, only satisfied when he finally took a sample of the fare. It took his attention away from her, if only
for a moment, and she used it prudently… memorizing the shadow of his hair against
his brow and the stubble that darkened his jaw.
What she would do to have such a picture to awaken to every morning…
They ate in silence.
Or rather, Heero ate while Relena watched quietly, only occasionally
picking at the meal under the pointed scrutiny of her companion. Never possessing of a hearty appetite at the
best of times, her desire for food was now completely lacking. Perhaps replaced by a desire of another kind…
“You risk too much.”
Heero pushed the near empty platter away with a dismissive
shove, leaning into the empty space it left behind. His scowl was dark, but his expression bore
merely traces of concern, rather than anger.
Relena stared back at him, her heart sinking; waiting for him to gain
his feet and take his leave. She opened
her mouth, struggling to think of something to say that would stay his flight.
“I…”
He didn’t move, however, instead smoothly interrupting her,
his voice softer this time.
“It would be unwise for me to stay here any longer… the
consequences to you should we be discovered…” Did he present his reasoning to
convince her or himself? He appeared unbalanced, even uncertain, and it was a
side to him that Relena had not previously encountered. It was curiously… endearing.
“I risk no more than you, Heero. Less in fact. But I have no wish to force you to stay here…
with me…” Relena sighed; she had not intended to appear so desperate.
“Why…” He had barely breathed the word, but it rang louder
in her ears than had he shouted it. Why?
His eyes bore into hers, demanding an answer that she was
still struggling to understand herself.
“Stay…” Her plea was little more than a sigh, and she took a
moment to reassert herself. “No one is expecting to see you today. And I know we can trust the Captain and Hilde
to keep our secret. Surely we cannot
waste their efforts at covering our absence?”
Heero raised an eyebrow at this before nodding briefly.
“It would be a…
waste…”
Relena smiled at him.
“Just for today, then. Things can return to normal tomorrow…”
******
The Head of Housekeeping listened to the young slave with an
air of contempt. How foolish did they
think she was? First
the Captain, and now this arrogant wisp of a hand servant. Did they honestly think that she did not know
what was going on in her own house hold? Under her very nose?
“… she
has asked not to be disturbed at all.
I’m sure it is just a minor ailment, and she will be feeling more
herself tomorrow. Perhaps… perhaps it
would be best if she received no visitors.
The Lady really does appear most poorly…”
The housekeeper merely grunted at her, waving her hand in
dismissal. Bowing quickly, her pale
cheeks flushing deeply, the maid turned on her heel and hurried away. The woman watched her go with some ire, furious
that she had been unable to prevent the inevitable.
She should have worked harder to keep that scum further from
the Lady Relena’s attention.
She blamed that high born but immoral harlot, the Lady
Dorothy. She had led the young woman
astray; there was no doubt of that. Her
Lady would never have acted on what was obviously a harmless crush… would never
have soiled herself with a man so beneath her.
The older woman thought regretfully of the young lady she
had watched grow up within these Palace walls.
She could not help the maternal feelings that the child evoked in her,
for to her she was exactly that. Still a child. Could
she be blamed for wishing to protect her from the… crassness of Society? What was good for other young Ladies was by
no means good for the Lady Relena. She
was above such… intrigues.
The Housekeeper was sure she was not alone in this
conviction.
‘Lady Relena’s brother… Caesar will not be happy.’
Her eyes narrowed shrewdly, watching the retreating back of
the young Celt. So they thought to
conceal this disobedience from those that deserved to be made aware, did they?
Well, they had underestimated
her.
Making her way back towards the kitchens she began to
plan. It was her duty to remove the Lady
from such poor influences. Or perhaps it
would be better to simply remove the poor influence? Only the most direct
approach would be suitable…
She wondered briefly where she would find Une. The mistress could provide her with just the…
contact she needed to carry out her
purpose.
And the whore owed her a favor or two.
******
Heero
dressed quickly; head bowed and determined not to meet her eye, lest his
resolve fail. Already early light had begun to creep across the night sky. Soon
the household would begin to stir, as the servants rose early to begin the day.
If he waited any longer, he could not possibly sneak out of her chambers
without someone noticing. He had to go…
Their time together had passed so quickly. He had thought at first, that she
would try to learn more about his background, would try to solve him like a
puzzle. But not once did she mention his past. Instead it was he that asked her
about hers, happy simply to listen to her soft reminiscing.
They spoke of trivial things… of her brother and memories of her father. Of her
travels, and her studies. She read to him from the stories of Ulysses, and he
took pleasure in her smiles and laughter.
And they had taken pleasure in each other. He shut his eyes against the memory
of her soft skin against his… her taste… her touch…
It was a supreme act of denial that he told himself he could not love her. But
his head knew the truth of it… and reminded him just the same. For his own
preservation… he should not love her.
But it was too late.
He knew she was watching him, could almost feel the waves of her disappointment
washing over him. But she knew as well as he did… They had both decided…
There was a natural way that her head fit
into the crook of his neck. The idle trace of her fingers across his chest revealed
that she was still awake, but the movement was slow and languid, which made him
think that she was not far from dozing off. If he was to broach the subject, it
was best that he did it now.
“I should go back in the morning.” The slow progression of her fingers stilled,
“It has been three days. There is only so long we can hide…any longer and we
are sure to be discovered…”
Her sigh was soft, but it was there. She turned her head, pressing her face
closer to his neck and curling closer to him in protest.
“I know… but…”
She sighed again, her breath warm against his neck, and that action alone was
enough to drive away every last ounce of his decisiveness…making him want to
forget that he had even considered that they end this… moment.
But it was too late. The spell had been broken.
“Is it wrong…Is it selfish of me to want to keep you here?” Her voice was
whisper soft, and for a moment he was unsure if the question was even directed
at him. Just the same, he shook his head silently, his hand tightening on her
hip as he held her closer.
She lifted her head then, fixing him with eyes of the most cerulean blue.
“Promise me though, Heero. Promise me you’ll come back to me as the sun sets?
We will let them take away our days… but promise me they will not rob us of our
nights? I do not think… I do not think I could rest again without you here
beside me…”
Heero drew a deep, steadying breath. Without realising it, Relena had managed
to soothe the uneasy beast that had begun to stir in his subconscious. The animal
that gnawed at his confidence that warned him of his imminent rejection… that
he would lose her favour…
“I promise.”
******
The massive bow of the Nilus Philopator cut through the dark
waters of the
Over a century old, the ship had been lovingly maintained,
truly a vessel for Royalty. Ingrained
with gold and ivory, carpeted with the finest Persian rugs and rich paintings
and tapestries lining the walls, it was a testament to the richness of
But it was above deck of this mighty vessel that Caesar had
chosen to find a moment of solitude, to reflect on the events of the past few
days. They had been at sea for a nundinum#,
and
This expedition, however, had provided some more…
pleasurable diversions than he had expected…
Caesar scowled, forcing unwelcome thoughts of the Egyptian
sovereign from his mind. The woman was
some kind of witch, there was no other explanation. Why else had he so impulsively chosen to make
this journey? He could have so easily sent an envoy to inspect her
province. It had been an enormous error
of judgment on his part to allow himself to be… led by her.
This was not the time to be away from
And for what? To return
home and find that the villas of his Senator’s had grown larger and more
impressive, while many of his people slept in the streets. He did not conquer for them. Those treasures and land belonged to the
people, and the soldiers that fought for them.
He would set things within the city’s great walls
right. And the Senate would do all it
could to stop him. Senator Barton and
his cronies. The Boni. They were exactly what
the government did not need. Politicians
who opposed for the sake of opposing and who did not understand what they
opposed. Boni opposition was irrational, rather than based on genuine,
thoughtful analysis.
And now with the
added threat of having their amply lined pockets emptied…
It had
not surprised him to see Barton and his shadows still hovering nearby as the
other Senators filed out of the Forum.
He had expected some form of confrontation since the moment of his
return. The Senator had become overconfident
and arrogant in his absence, taking far more liberties than his station truly
deserved.
He had
no doubt heard the rumors of Caesar’s intended upheaval, though none had yet
been made privy of what Milliardo’s exact intentions were. Such was Senator Barton’s greed and lust for
power, that he would be the first to approach him.
“There
are whispers, Caesar… disturbing rumours… I had
hopes that you could perhaps set our minds at ease.”
Leaning back in his seat, Milliardo fixed him with an indifferent
eye, revealing neither his distaste for the man, nor his derision.
“I would not have thought you one to lend significance
to the gossip of others, Senator.” But he did.
Of course he did. Milliardo knew
that Barton lived by, thrived on, the intrigues of hearsay. Old men made greater scandalmongers than old
women. No matter how they may deny it.
He watched him stutter and baulk, annoyed already with
this banter. Sighing, he decided to put
the men out of their misery.
“If
you must know my mind this instant, the so be it. When I return from
The
older man’s eyes narrowed, doing little to mask his obvious displeasure. The mouths of his companions gaped like
landed fish, mouthing their silent objection, lacking even a little of Barton’s
self control.
Stilling
them with a glare, Senator Barton returned his eyes to Caesar, the smooth
trained expression of good-humor back in full force.
“Of
course, the Senate looks forward to a vigorous debate.”
Milliardo
gave a minute smile, his words even but dismissive. “Good.
My reforms begin with the Senate and it will take old friends to see
them through.”
It would be foolish indeed, not to suspect that the Boni plotted in his absence. A diligent eye would need to be kept on their
movements. He was grateful for the knowledge
that his cousin was a trusted ally; he could rely on him to inform him of the politicians movements.
He did regret the loss of the perceived infallible
He had still to forgive Treize for that carelessness.
A light cough behind him drew Milliardo from his thoughts
and turned his attention to his advisor.
Nodding silently to Pagan, he waited as he bowed and stated his
business.
“Caesar; I have been conversing with some of the Queen’s
less discreet minions, and there appears to be something rather interesting you
may wish to know about.”
Eyebrow raised, Milliardo listened patiently, his expression darkening as his mentor disclosed his intelligence. The man had barely finished when Caesar
stalked past him towards the Pharaoh’s private chambers, his expression
thunderous.
Slaves and guards scurried out of his way, the lively
chattering atmosphere in the assembly room grinding to silence. But in the midst of it, their Queen watched
him with complete nonchalance, her lips turned up in a coy smirk. The knowing glint in her eye left him
unsettled, and for an instant he paused in his stride.
But the moment passed, and his anger flared again.
“At exactly what stage were you planning on telling me that
the protection you required was from your own brother?”
******
# The Roman week… a nundinum… was eight days long.